From stricken fields and ocean caves Our cause was holy to the height Of holiest cause to manhood given; And while the warm blood bounded bright, AGNES AND THE YEARS. CELIA M. BURR. MAIDEN Agnes," said the Year in going, When I reach them they will murmur low, "Tell them, tell them that beside the sea To waft me proudly to that sunny land "Day after day I watch the ships go by, And strain my eyes across the restless deep, Where, dimly pictured 'gainst the summer sky, The Hills of Morning in their beauty sleep. AGNES AND THE YEARS. But look! even now across the shining sea "Woman Agnes, on the wreck-strewn shore, "Leave me, leave me all is lost-is lost! My goodly ship is crumbled in the deep; My trusted helmsman in the breakers tossed; All's wrecked, all's wasted, e'en the power to weep. The mocking waves toss scornfully ashore "Leave me alone, to pore upon the waves, Whitened with upturned faces of the dead; "Christian Agnes, in the firelight dreaming, What the message I shall bear from thee To the angels, whose soft eyes are beaming From the portal where they watch for me? 'Is she coming?' they will say; 'O, Year, Draw her footsteps to the Homeland near?'" "This the message-that I sit no more With eyes bent idly on the Hills of Morn, "And it was granted. By my hearth to-night, Tell the beloved ones, I sit alone, 145 But not unhappy; for the morning light I wait the Sabbath, which I trust draws near." CATILINE'S DEFIANCE. CROLY. BANISHED from Rome! What's banished but set free From daily contact of the things I loathe ? "Tried and convicted traitor!"-Who says this? Banished? I thank you for't! It breaks my chains! But now my sword's my own. Smile on, my lords! I have within my heart's hot cells shut up, To leave you in your lazy dignities! But here I stand and scoff you!-here I fling "Traitor!" I go,—but I return! This trial! Here I devote your senate!—I've had wrongs, To stir a fever in the blood of age, And make the infant's sinews strong as steel, This day's the birth of sorrow! This hour's work Will breed proscriptions! Look to your hearths, my lords! OUR FOLKS. 147 OUR FOLKS. NOTE.-The following beautiful and touching lines were taken from the •knapsack of a Union soldier, who was found dead, upon the battle-field of Hatcher's Run, Va., in Nov., 1864. The original manuscript, torn and defaced, was presented to Major BARTON by Colonel EDWARD HILL, of the Sixteenth Michigan Infantry. The author is unknown. Hi! Harry! Hallie! Halt, and tell Since you've been home, old comrade, true, And hot saltpetre flames and smokes ! And mother-does she fade at all, Or does she seem to pine and fret for me? You saw them at the church, you say; "I said all well, old comrade dear, I say all well! for He knows best, And that's the matter with your folks.' This letter telling all the rest. Bear up, old friend,"―nobody speaks! Only the dull camp raven croaks And soldiers whisper, boys be still! There's some bad news from Granger's folks!' He turned his back upon his grief And sadly strove to hide the tears Kind nature sends to woe's relief. Then answered, "Ah, well! Hal, I'll try; I can't help thinking, too, I might have kept this trouble off And when His hand deals other strokes |